


Pencil Skirt

by peppermintquartz



Series: Dressing Up [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Beverly is an evil friend, Hannibal Discovers A Kink, M/M, Will puts on a skirt, but Will loves her anyway, preller if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 03:12:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7667938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermintquartz/pseuds/peppermintquartz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will stared at Beverly. "I hate you."<br/>"Come on, Will," Beverly cajoled, "it's you or Jack, and he has to maintain his image."<br/>He leveled a glare at her.<br/>She was undaunted. "You, on the other hand, could do with a little more fun in your image."<br/>"This is not fun." He gestured at the item in her hand. "This is me. In a skirt."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pencil Skirt

Will stared at Beverly. "I hate you."

"Come on, Will," Beverly cajoled, "it's you or Jack, and he has to maintain his image." 

He leveled a glare at her.

She was undaunted. "You on the other hand could do with a little more fun in your image."

"This is not fun." He gestured at the item in her hand. "This is me. In a skirt."

Beverly shoved the charcoal gray pencil skirt, a lab coat, and a white blouse at him. "Coulda been a backless sequinned gown. That's what I'd hoped to get Jack into, ok?"

They both paused to consider the image. Will glared balefully at her. "I really hate you."

 

Apparently the BAU had lost a bet with the Digital Forensics unit over at OpTech. Will didn't hear much beyond Beverly's "I need you to put on this outfit". She promised it would take twenty minutes, tops. Will gave in because, well, it was Beverly and he wouldn't miss his appointment with Hannibal.

It was a relatively slow week at the BAU (for which Will was grateful - he was in to finish up and submit a report) and, this close to Christmas, most of the uppers were a touch more lax. Still, they waited until the lab was officially closed so they had the place to themselves. The OpTech guys had gone to wait in the morgue along with Beverly. 

After office hours, Will Graham found himself in the men's washroom with Zeller and Price. The other two had their own outfits to put on and Zeller was cursing loudly about Beverly being the one who missed the free throw.

It felt incredibly awkward putting on the skirt. It was tight, especially around the hips, and it clung to his legs. The top of his thighs rubbed together uncomfortably. At least it wasn't short - it reached to just the tops of his knees. The white blouse was thankfully close to a man's shirt, though it was tight around his biceps and shoulders. He tried to roll his shoulders but could not. The skirt also restricted the movement of his legs and he thought he might trip at any second.

All too soon Beverly called out from the entrance. "I'm coming in so tuck away everything you don't want me to see."

"I can't tuck all of me away!" Zeller hollered.

Ignoring Zeller, Beverly rapped on the cubicle doors. "Come on out, lemme take a look before the OpTech boys."

Grimacing, Will resigned himself to fate. At least he wasn't the only one. He wrapped the lab coat around him and shuffled out.  
Price was already outside. To Will's shock, he had on an extremely short fuchsia miniskirt and a black halterneck that shimmered as he moved. Beverly was cooing over his legs. When Price noticed Will and Zeller gawking, he smirked and said, "I had a good time pre-college. My legs were the talk of the town."

"They're gorgeous," Bevely gushed. She grinned and asked, her brows arched, "What didja say when the boys complimented your gams?"

"That my legs would look even better wrapped around them, of course," Price replied, winking lasciviously.

Zeller's face flushed deep pink and he sputtered, "That's-"

"Oh hush Bri, it was a long time ago." Price gave Zeller the once-over. "Love the dress. Not loving the dress on _you_."

Zeller was in a sunny yellow dress with skinny shoulder straps and it flared out from his waist. Will wished that was the option Beverly gave him, but he had to admit that Zeller probably couldn't fit in the white shirt Will had struggled to put on.

Beverly wrinkled her nose at Zeller and adjusted the thin belt around his waist. Then she sighed. "It does show off your muscles well. Though that hairy chest is just... Mmm."

"Fuck off."

"Sore loser." 

"You missed the throw!"

Now Beverly pointed to Zeller and Will. "Ok, the beards have got to go. Come on now." She held out an electric razor to Zeller. "Complain and I'll make you shave your legs too."

She motioned for Will to open the lab coat. Reluctantly Will let go of his death grip on the lapels and stood with his hands behind him, like he was at parade rest, except the skirt kept his knees close together.

"Whoa, you're a knockout," said Price. He smiled at Will and added, "The scruff regardless."

"Thanks," said Will dryly.

Beverly hmmed a moment and said, "Gimme the coat."

"What? No!"

"Will, I may be batting for the other team, but I know you have a cute butt. Gotta show it off. Gimme the coat."

"Fuck no."

"Gimme the coat or I'll take a photo." She wiggled the phone in her hand. "Don't think I won't."

"...I hate you."

She grabbed the coat and ran out the toilet. Zeller was soon done with shaving and he handed it to Will, who sighed and resigned himself to looking like a child.

Beverly returned in a couple of minutes with three pairs of heels and handed one pair to each of them.

Will rubbed his newly-shaven jaw and cheeks and stared at her. "I truly hate you." 

She was gaping open-mouthed at him. "Oh wow, you're a babe."

"Are you even hearing what I'm saying?"

"You love me. Come on, shoes."

The kitten heels (why were they called kitten heels? Will could not figure it out) were not too bad, even if he wobbled a little when he walked. Zeller had strappy platform heels and so he towered over the other two, and Price had descended on a pair of patent leather stilettoes with unholy glee. Will didn't even ask why Beverly had women's shoes that fit them. He suspected that she had lost on purpose, just for this.

The three men waited in the toilet while Beverly called the winners to come and witness their humiliation. At least there wouldn't be photographic proof. The FBI didn't take kindly to such shenanigans being made public, and OpTech knew how easily such photos could travel.

They heard footsteps and Will braced himself. It was simple: each of them had to do a 'catwalk' before the OpTech guys, and that was it. The embarrassment of having to be in dresses and skirts was enough.

"Oh. I was not expecting... this."

To Will's horror, it was Hannibal at the entrance. Will's cheeks flamed up so fast he was surprised his hair did not catch fire. Zeller groaned and covered his face while Price just waved a hand at the doctor. The psychiatrist stared at all three men, and to Will it felt like Hannibal's gaze lingered on him the longest.

At that moment, Beverly returned with the OpTech guys. "Hi Dr Lecter. Sorry but you're gonna have to use a different washroom."

"Of course. My apologies," he said graciously. He inclined his head at everyone, though his eyes raked over Will one more time before he left.

Price leaned over to whisper, "Think it'll be awkward the next time he pops in for a consult?"

"He won't talk about it," Will murmured, but inside he was dreading the conversation he was going to have with Hannibal. The catwalk was a cakewalk in comparison.

 

\---

 

Will stood outside Hannibal's door. He was still early and he didn't know if he ought to knock. In the end, he waited there, too antsy to sit, too distracted to pace. The door opened precisely at 7.30pm and Hannibal smiled that minimalist smile of his.

"Good evening Will. Come in."

"Good evening Dr Lecter."

The chairs were placed even closer tonight than usual. Will noticed that there were certain days when the chairs were further apart and certain days the chairs were set so close that their knees could be touching. He supposed it was a way for Hannibal to set the tone of the meeting. Distance or intimacy. Objectivity or subjectivity.

"It was a bet," Will blurted before he sat down. He was not even facing the older man. "What you saw earlier. That was a bet."

"I bet it was," Hannibal replied. His amusement was evident in his warm tone. "Please, have a seat."

Will had to smile at the request. He rubbed at his nose and scrubbed the heels of his palms over his freshly-shaven cheeks. "My students will think I'm twenty. Not sure if I'll command their attention, looking so boyish."

"Their eyes will be fixed on you. I guarantee it." Hannibal's own eyes were fixed on Will, warm and welcoming.

Will flushed and felt a little warm himself when he met Hannibal's gaze. His throat felt tight. 

For weeks now they had drawn closer and closer, circling each other like stars caught in a twin orbit. Ever since that time Hannibal killed in self-defense against Tobias Budge, there had been that  _something_ in Hannibal's gaze, a longing that the older man did not voice and that Will did not dare to acknowledge.

It was here now. It resonated and vibrated between them. Will chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"What did you think when you saw-" His voice wavered and he stared at the tips of Hannibal's shoes. "Never mind."

"I thought you were beautiful."

That brought Will up short. He blinked and met Hannibal's eyes. "I never meant... It was a-a joke."

Hannibal smiled that little smile again. "You were put in a different skin, but in your disguise you were more yourself than you usually are."

"Discomfort and distress brings that out in me," Will supplied. He had always been honest here, in this office. With Hannibal, it was easy to not have to put up shields.

"In extremis, we reveal our true selves. We have no energy for dissemblance." 

"I'd hardly call wearing a skirt being  _in extremis_."

"Would you like me to bring you to that state?"

Will's pulse skipped. He stared at the doctor, who was still impassive and calm as always. He stared at their knees that were almost touching, and imagined himself in that pencil skirt with his bare knees and the kitten heels. He wanted to ask why Hannibal was asking him the question. He wanted to ask what Hannibal wanted with him.

Instead, he said, "Next week, perhaps."

_Next week. A promise or a threat. Perhaps both._ Will wondered what Hannibal would do, and very carefully did not ask.

The corners of Hannibal's eyes crinkled. "Next week then." He leaned back and laced his fingers over his abdomen, and they talked about other matters.

 

At the end of the session, when Will was at the private exit, Hannibal took him by the elbow. Even though they were alone, Hannibal leaned in and murmured at Will's ear, "Next week, we'll have our session at my place after dinner, and I'd appreciate if you left off the aftershave."

"Anything else, doctor?" Will asked. He meant to sound sarcastic, but the words came out breathless.

"I would be very pleased if you remain clean-shaven," said the older man, his other hand ghosting his knuckles along Will's jaw.

Will swallowed. It was hard to breathe. "Legs too?" he offered.

Hannibal let his nose brush over Will's cheek. "If you wish." He let go and inclined his head. "Goodnight, Will."

"Goodnight Dr Lecter."

**Author's Note:**

> Now with [ fanart ](https://twitter.com/adrienne_kt/status/857609409626865665)


End file.
